Not what it seems
by CallYouByYourName
Summary: At first, your new tutoring assignment seemed utterly, completely normal. The Russos were just like every other family. Weren't they?


**A/N: I don't really know what to say about this one. I'm not sure it's really a story. I thought about rating it M purely for insinuation, but decided against it. Think of it like very soft M, maybe. It's dirty, but I like it. There may be a little sweetness mixed in with the dirt. **

**I thought about doing a *definitely* M-rated version, but I'm sort of afraid of being banned for life and executed or whatever. I've read the rules. No one seems to enforce them, but still. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. Obviously.**

**Word count: 3,125**

**Categories: Angst, Romance, Family. **

**Spoilers: For 'My Tutor, Tutor**'.

* * *

><p>It didn't seem unusual at first; your latest teaching assignment, the Russos, looked and acted like a normal family. Mostly.<p>

Maxwell Russo was every inch the sweet, somewhat overlooked little boy that you'd come to know through the profile and academic records the wizard council gave you when they asked you to take the job. And just as the profile indicated, Max isn't stupid at all. Based on his records as well as your personal assessment during brief time you had with him, it's your opinion that he's honestly quite intelligent.

He's a little hyperactive maybe, and overshadowed by his siblings for sure – who could compete with Justin's intellectual prowess and dedication, or with Alex's sharp tongue and devilish charisma? - but he has a creative mind, a real if somewhat hidden intelligence, and a playful willingness to experiment with magic that neither of the older siblings possessed, and which by itself could take him far. (And his love of exploding things. There's that, too.)

All he needed was for someone to save him.

His problems had a lot more to do with his family dynamic than any lack of brains – but you've seen a lot of that, and it didn't faze you. You felt sure you were just what Max needed.

Although youngest, Max occupies a role more often reserved for middle children. But it's understandable. Although the youngest, there's no way he will ever be the willful, slightly spoiled but generally loved and forgiven baby of the family. Alex already has that covered. So he's not the bright academic, not the loveable troublemaker. He's just Max.

If it's odd that you don't see much of the parents, or that all three children are constantly in attendance when you're only there for the one, you don't think much of it at first. It's ordinary for siblings to be jealous, as well as nosey – and after all, you _are_ an elf. Well, half elf. But it's enough. People like to be around you.

They can't help it.

* * *

><p>Max is doing really well, catching up as quickly as you'd known he would. With positive reinforcement and your teaching style tailored to his busy mind and childlike curiosity, he'll be ready to compete with his siblings in no time.<p>

You've done this before, after all. Literally, hundreds of times, and the drill pretty much stays the same. You're sent to a new family of wizards, where you employ your natural talent to help the kids who are struggling in their magic. You have a knack for efficiently sorting out what each student needs, and teaching your lessons in a way they can understand. You might even say it's your calling. You're very good at what you do. It doesn't hurt, either, that your clients universally love you and want to make you happy. But it's not your fault, and besides, you use your powers for good.

You make friends, but never for keeps – the Council doesn't like its staff to mix business and personal life, and they're pretty strict about it. You've been genuinely sorry about many doomed friendships, and you've broken more than a few hearts. But, as they say, you leave them better than they were when you found them. Mostly.

Mostly, you believe that.

* * *

><p>In retrospect, you maybe should have tumbled to it sooner. It was right in front of you, but you weren't looking for it. Really, who would be? Even in the wizard world, some things just aren't <em>done.<em>

But it was right under your nose the whole time. You hadn't been with them for more than ten minutes, the mist that you'd brought in with you through the portal still swirling in the air, when the girl let you know in no uncertain terms that you weren't needed.

"My brother," she'd explained without malice and with a touch of pride, "has a vast knowledge of wizardry." You, you were informed, would be leaving in disgrace.

_My brother._ It took you a few days to notice that most of her more passionate statements were prefaced that way; _My brother_ is the card that Alex Russo plays when she's victorious or upset, excited or in trouble. When she has something to prove.

But the dark-haired boy isn't interested in chasing you off, and his sister looks daggers.

_Really? Is that all it takes? A pretty face?_

* * *

><p>It's not until Justin asks you out, in his adorably awkward way, that things start feeling seriously weird. Nothing overt, just this <em>off <em>feeling. You can't put your finger on it. (Until you put your finger on it.) It's hard to even pin it down. Because, some things just aren't done. Not in the wizarding world, not anywhere.

It's in the way that the girl just lurks in the lair while you work with Max, as if she has nothing better to do than oversee her darling brother's studies—and keep an eye on you. She flips through a glossy magazine with practiced nonchalance, but her posture says restless. You've seen a thing or two, and you're not as easily fooled as that. She's hovering. Waiting. At the time, you thought it was for you.

And there's the way she behaves when her older brother, the adorably awkward one, comes striding into the Lair. Completely forgetting the comic books she was so eager to show you a moment ago, she sees him and spins on her heel, trails him back in. The whole time he's talking to you she hovers at her brother's elbow, touching him, confronting him with hot eyes. _Get out._

She pulls him to off one side in an efficient, possessive gesture obviously honed through years of practice. Leans into his face to stake her claim to you, and no minced words about it.

"I'm starting a friendship thing here, _Justin._"

"Not if I make her my girlfriend first." He smiles wickedly, but that's off, too. Because even though they're talking about you, they don't even look over. Their eyes are all over each other. And their eyes are _hungry._

Justin and Alex look only at each other, flinging insults and threats and staring one another in the face. The siblings exchange snarling monosyllables, inching closer together with each furiously whispered exchanged.

There's something weird in the air between them, but you're here for Max. You're used to being fought over, and instead of adding to the melee you rifle through the study materials Justin's been generous enough to loan you. He's really trying hard to make a good impression.

Funny how Max doesn't get weirded out, like you are. He must be used to it. He hardly seems to notice.

So, Justin asks you out (finally!) in his odd, endearing way. Doggedly persistent, painfully nervous. You think he's sweet. You like him. You say yes.

* * *

><p>Later, Justin parades you into the family restaurant, obviously showing you off. It's sort of cute, so you don't mind.<p>

Right on cue, Alex sashays over to redirect your attention, casually flinging her sandwich leavings toward her actual and long-term best friend, whom she abandons at the counter just as she's abandoned her every day since you've arrived. You've already started to wonder how she gets away with treating people like she does. Is she part elf, too?

Justin seems to think so.

* * *

><p>On your date, you go with Justin to new the Leprechaun Grill. Justin's suit is remarkably green. It's not a very good restaurant, but that's Hardly the point. You're excited just to be doing something with him. And it gets you out of that house.<p>

Alex is there before you've even had a chance to order.

She tells Justin that he forgot his wallet, which isn't true, then takes you by the arm and with her charming smile leads you away from him. In the booth, there's hardly enough room for Justin; Alex has crowded him out. She pretends not to notice, and you don't say anything because you're not sure what to do yet with the odd dynamic asserting itself. Alex pretends to ignore his consternation. Now she's got you both.

Justin hovers. Alex knows about troll wrestling nearby, and would you like to go with her? You would. Justin isn't thrilled. You consider for the first time that it's odd how they can't stand one another, yet they always seem to be together. You wonder why he doesn't just ask her to leave; isn't he the older brother?

_Oh, Relax, Justin. Wrestling doesn't start for another hour. You can finish your date. While I poke this leprechaun with your stick._

She's not going anywhere.

* * *

><p>Toward the end, the façade really starts to fall apart. Eventually, it just crumbles altogether. Here's what happens:<p>

You're working with Max, walking him through the final preparation for the quiz you were sent to help him pass. Honestly, you couldn't be prouder of him. He's going to do really well.

Then Justin comes in, ostensibly to prevent Max from perpetuating any shenanigans, but you know he's here to see you. Thirty seconds pass, and Alex is hot on his trail, only she's here to see you too. Right?

You're talking to Justin, and at fairly close range, but Alex Russo insinuates herself bodily between the two of you, explaining why you should spend time with her rather than with her brother, and wouldn't you rather just go right now? Justin stands up for himself (for once), shoving in again, closing the tight space even further.

But now he's got his _back_ to you; he's facing Alex. And even though he's belittling her, and even though Alex is insulting him, it's like she's the only other person in the room.

(Like you and Max don't even exist.)

And here's another thing: while you're waiting out the awkwardness, you have time to think about all the touching they've been doing, just since she stormed into the room and stole focus so blatantly. Except, it's not just during this argument, it's not just today; they seem to have some sort of psychological need to be in contact, constantly. It can be playful or outright mean: there are pokes and slaps, sideways hugs, there's elbowing one another out of the way, brushing up against each other when there's plenty of room to get by, there's pushing and nudging and invading personal space. It's a guiding hand on Alex's low back as he shoves her ahead of him, it's an insistent grip on Justin's bicep as she retrieves him from his most recent conversation, or leans on him as if he were a piece of furniture. It's nothing you could call inappropriate. But they touch each other a lot.

A _lot._

When the siblings' requests cede to outright demands you decide you've had enough; you drop the bomb. The two elder Russo children wear identical expressions of shock.

_You're leaving?_

You try not to let it bother you when Alex backs up against Justin until she's practically pressing into him. Practically holding his hand. You'd almost swear that Justin's hand brushes her hip, soothing. But it's so fleeting that maybe you imagined it.

When they rush from the room, brokenhearted and indignant, they go together.

* * *

><p>"<em>Justin, what's gonna happen when she goes?" <em>

"_Nothing, because we have to find a way to make her stay." _

* * *

><p>"…<em>where are we gonna get two tutors at this time of night?"<em>

"_I know, let me call somebody."_

"_Oh…"_

"_Oh."_

"_Us."_

* * *

><p>The Lair is only on the other side of the freezer door. The kitchen seems like an odd place to hold secret meetings; the acoustics are great. The walls are thin in the rest of the house, too. You've always been a light sleeper.<p>

_Us._

* * *

><p>Max fails his test, miserably. You don't understand, or maybe you don't want to. You feel terrible for Max. Alex and Justin rush in, their timing suspicious. And of course, they're together. Is that suspicious too? Should it be? They're disappointed for Max. But their consolation is strangely short-lived.<p>

You guess you'll have to stay a little longer, after all. Their faces light up like Christmas.

Nobody else watches Max leave, head hung low in defeat.

Alex leads you by the hand to one of the really big chairs, hauls you down into it. (She's surprisingly strong for her size.) Alex curls up on the wide armrest; Justin takes the other. It's… cozy.

_Tutor, what's your record for sneaking into the movies?_

_Tutor, there's a new exhibit at the museum, and I thought…_

_Tutor, can we…_

…_Tutor, would you…_

_Tutor_

_Tutor_

_Tutor_

They're flanking you, bookending your body between them as they lean in to be close to you. Justin's arm is across your shoulders, over the back of the chair. So is Alex's.

It doesn't make sense for them to be leaning in to one another like that, hands resting on arms, fingers all but intertwined. You are rational and analytical by nature. You're forced to examine everything you've done so well at misreading up until now.

And you get it.

The siblings aren't trying to get close to you. They're too intent upon one another for that, completely consumed. You're uncomfortable, warm. They're practically throwing heat, and you're caught between them. But it's like you're not there. This has nothing to do with you. You get it.

You're a surrogate. A body they can put between them to make everything work the way it's supposed to. Their competition is a convenience, their anger an illusion.

It makes sense, in a twisted way. Even though they're incredibly compatible just under the surface, they can't really enjoy one another, or even have fun together… that's not allowed. And now that you've seen it, you can't possibly misunderstand why. _(We try to keep our lives very separate.) _

They can't do the things they want to do with each other… but they can do them all with you. They're exchanging emotions through you, and more than emotions. A terrible, unrequited passion is being channeled through your body, through your existence. Heat. Friendship. Love. Need. They each want the other to see. _Desperately._

And you? You're just the body the put between themselves, to hide what they're really doing. You're what they use to love one another. _And they do. So damn much. It's like looking into the sun._ You're the go-between, the surrogate, the cover story. It was never about you.

Does it have to be?

And for just a moment, you allow yourself to think about how that would work out, in a much more… literal interpretation. Because, honestly? You can see it going there, given world and time enough. These two have a kind of wild electricity between them that demands outlet before someone gets hurt. It may or may not be why they've come so close to destroying the world so many times. And, so many times saved it.

(You've done your research.)

For a moment you allow yourself to imagine it, and the image… isn't terrible.

Justin you've already mostly fallen for, as least much as you ever can; you're not exactly the settling-down type. He's just too sweet, like a puppy with those big eyes. And like a puppy, he'd undoubtedly be fun to play with; he probably wouldn't even understand what you'd done to him until later, and by then you'd be long gone. His over-the-top geeky demeanor does an almost-but-not-quite effective job of concealing his other attributes ( It's like they have some kind of natural camoflage, those two, in everything). In addition to a big brain, big brother Russo has a not entirely unattractive physique, and what you've seen notwithstanding his prim clothes is toned and firm. He has startlingly pretty grey eyes, and an unassuming way about him that is just a little too innocent to be real. So sure, you can imagine it.

And Alex, well. Alex is beautiful. She sparkles outrageously with life. She has the kind of body you've _never_ had, elf or no. Alex could sell fire to the devil himself, and when she's making you like her, you feel like a rock star. Justin does, for sure. She has a flagrant disregard for rules, and a wickedly creative mind. There are probably worse things to be, than a go-between for the passion between these two.

You wonder if they'd want to be right there in the room at the same time. But really, there's no question. It doesn't seem like these two, to want to be apart for something so big. They share all the big things, and a few of the smaller ones. They're good at sharing things, once the fighting stops.

Then you let yourself remember the wizard council's policy on maintaining even the most casual of friendships, after an assignment has been completed. So, not worth it. Completely out of the question. All the best things are.

* * *

><p>This time, you're with Alex. You really do like her – she's funny, she tells great stories, and she's smarter and kinder than she wants most people to know. A little like Max.<p>

This time, it's Justin who comes to try to take you away from his sister. By the way, you can't be both Alex's friend and Justin's girlfriend – that's against their rules. You don't really need to ask why, but they tell you anyway.

_We like to keep our lives very separate. It's better for everyone._

Yeah. You bet they _do._

Max, the variable everyone forgot about (you have an idea that happens a lot), comes to the Grill, and tells you what they've done. He lets the rabid little leprechaun out of its box. Because he promised his mother he'd revenge himself on his siblings. Perfect. Disgusting.

They were (and remain, you feel sure) willing to sacrifice their little brother on the alter of this... this gigantic whatever-it-is-between them. And this is the straw. Helping struggling kids is your life's work, and while you might not judge the other thing, this is something entirely different. You can't let this stand.

You're out.

The leprechaun comes out of its box, and Alex tries to hide behind Justin kind of reflexively, like she's done it before. A lot.

* * *

><p>Back at the Lair, and you rale at them. They deserve it, for what they've done. Max has a lot of potential! He could be a really great wizard someday, or at least a better-than-average mortal! But he can't focus because of the <em>dysfunction<em> in this family.

(This time, that's an understatement.)

Alex is sullen, defensive. Her hair is full of straw wrappers and the other detritus that you find on the floor of a fast food restaurant. Like they'd been rolling around in it. You tell yourself that it's because the leprechaun tussled with them, and for no other reason. Their clothes are rumpled. Justin is silent and brooding. Protective of Alex, when you yell at her.

_We're not THAT dysfunctional. _

You're tempted to ask them if their parents are related. But you don't. There's a line.

(Apparently, the line is more obvious to some people than to others.)

They beg and wail, but you refuse to back down, and the pair leaves in disgust. Like _you're_ the weird part of what's going on here. Still bickering, they decide to go get some pizza.

Without you or Max. Together. Of course.

You pack up the few things you brought with you. _Good luck, Max_ you wish the kid, silently, as you walk out the door. _You're gonna need it. _


End file.
